


Happy Hanukkah, Primarch Angron

by kishiriaz



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors
Genre: Gen, Hanukkah, Jewish Angron, Judaism, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8965174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishiriaz/pseuds/kishiriaz
Summary: It's winter on Imperia, and Angron surprises everyone by having a holiday he celebrates.  Part of the Retirement AU.





	

On the first morning it snowed on the Imperial mansion, the Imperial children let Lorgar and Angron know about it. They didn’t do it by coming into the front parlour and telling their primarch half-brothers. They didn’t need to.

Angron and Lorgar were asleep on the enormous bed that the Emperor and Empress had provided for them. They lay protectively back-to-back, with Angron in a pair of sweatpants and Lorgar in a heavy woolen robe and socks. His nightcap had fallen off his head in the night.

They were both on their feet within a second of the first shriek. Angron crouched with Gorefather and Gorechild in his hands, while Lorgar gripped his crozius. Angron went through the door to the nursery first, ready to use his axes, but well aware that he needed to keep them turned off until he actually saw an enemy. Lorgar stood behind him, watching their backs. A moment later they heard another shriek, followed by lots of childish laughter. They lowered their weapons and went down the hall to one of the big playrooms. It had corner windows, and children were gathered around them both, watching snow fall like feathers from a torn eiderdown.

“Can we go sledding?” one of them asked.

“Sledding?” Angron asked.

“It’s a pastime,” Lorgar told him. “I’ve heard about it from Rogal. There is a vehicle called a sled, with blades on the bottom that slide over the fallen snow. If you ride it down a hill, it is apparently a great deal of fun.”

Angron turned a reddened eye towards him. “Did you just mention a ‘pastime’ that is ‘fun’ in the same sentence as Rogal?”

“Even Rogal was a child once.” He raised his voice. “All right! Let’s all have breakfast and get ready for playing in the snow. I just need to find out more about how you do it.”

Breakfast was set in the nursery dining room every day at the same time, just as all the other meals were. Angron put on a shirt, Lorgar called roll, and once they knew all the children existing in that present were there, they sat down to porridge, fresh fruit, and bacon. Angron always passed on the bacon, but happily put away several gallons of porridge, chased by recaf. 

Lorgar ate slightly less, along with some tea. He left Angron in charge of the table and went to vox Rogal Dorn.

The Dorns’ daughter Hestia answered. “Hello Uncle Lorgar.”

“Good morning, Hestia. I need to ask Rogal what we should know about playing in the snow. Neither Angron nor I have ever done it, and the children are requesting to do so.”

“Dad might not be the right person to ask. I’d suggest Grandpa. Dad is outside shoveling the snow with no shirt on while Papa is in his study, crying.”

“Why is Perturabo crying?”

“Because it’s cold and snowing, and Dad is outside with no shirt on to make fun of him.”

“Tell Rogal to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Teasing Perturabo.”

“Okay, because if you wanted him to stop shoveling snow without a shirt, we might have a riot. He’s being…quite a roadside attraction right now.”

“I am sure. Thank you, Hestia, I will ask the Emperor.”

+Ask Me what, My son?”

Lorgar grunted. +What do we have to know about taking the children to play in the snow? Is it allowed, first of all? And what do we do?+

The Master of Mankind immediately projected the knowledge into Lorgar’s mind. Lorgar nodded, knowing that he would not find this enjoyable, but Angron certainly would. He also knew where to send for sleds, toboggans, and something called a flying saucer. 

Lorgar returned to the parlour, as the children were off dressing. “Rogal is out in this without a shirt,” he concluded to Angron.

Angron laughed, baring his metal teeth. “High rider! I’m going out naked but for a loincloth!”

Which is what he did.

Lorgar stood outside in the snow-covered lawn, wrapped in a cape with a blanked draped over his head. Angron romped in the snow, laughing his terrifying laugh and throwing the children into the deep drifts. Lorgar shivered, but smiled. He wasn’t sure who was having the most amount of fun. Once the children discovered snowballs, the lawn began to sound like a genuine battle, especially as Angron helped both sides raise snow forts.

Eventually it was lunchtime, and Lorgar gratefully came inside. Angron went to dry himself and put on his usual sweatpants and light pullover jumper. Today lunch was chicken noodle soup and toasted cheese sandwiches. 

Once the kids were sent to their rooms for their afternoon naps or quiet time, Lorgar retired to his study with a book. His study was the room originally assigned to him, but in which he never slept. Angron went to their shared room, presumably for a lie-down of his own.

When Lorgar went in to get a volume from the shelf of books he was currently reading, he found Angron polishing a candelabra. It was brass, with four candleholders on one side and four on the other, with a raised one higher than the others in the middle. It was adorned with a porcelain medallion with a dark-blue background on which there was a white six-pointed star.

“I know this sigil,” Lorgar said, pointing to it. “It is a sign of protection from certain creatures of the warp.”

“It is called the Magein David,” Angron said. “The Shield of David. Tonight, we begin a festival, my brother. I have told the cook that tonight we eat potato pancakes with our supper, and fat jam buns after.”

Lorgar sat in one of the fat armchairs by the fireplace. “This sounds like a very pleasant festival. Is it a festival of lights to banish the dark of winter?”

“It is! And more than that. It commemorates a great military victory against the High Riders of ancient Terra, wherein the forces of Judah Hasmodea destroyed the invading foreigners by the power of his hammer!”

Angron was grinning, pantomiming the action of hammering in a man’s skull with his candelabra.

“It sounds…most stirring, my brother. Are you certain this is something the little ones should be permitted to celebrate?”

“There is a game for them to play for sweets,” Angron assured him. “I will tell them a less bloody version, though I of course think it would do them good to hear my way of telling it.”

“And why do you yourself observe this day?” Lorgar asked.

“Eight nights,” Angron corrected. “And I must light this candelabra for eight nights. The Sigillite sent me the correct number of candles. Mortarion denounces him as a wizard, but he has been most helpful to me.”

Lorgar rubbed at his gold-tattooed chin. “Brother Angron, have you turned towards religion?”

Angron’s thin-lipped mouth curved into a smile. “I have. If the Emperor knows, he has the sense to pretend not to. Back when we crusading, I would have my daughter Ankeara read books to me, classic books to further my knowledge. She was reading me a book about a slave revolt, led by a man who had been adopted by high-riders, but returned to the slaves who were his people. The man’s name was Moshe, and it turned out that the god who favoured the slaves and their revolt was against the high-riders.” Angron’s smile became a frightening grin. “The god, whose name is Existence, led the slaves through a sea, and drowned the high-riders who pursued the slaves!” He laughed and slapped his knee. Lorgar pulled into the cushioned back of his chair a little more.

“I said to Ankeara, the Emperor does not want us to worship gods, and yet here is one who crushes the oppressor. I would be a follower of this Existence. It took me a while to find a teacher of this religion, but I found one who agreed with me, and now I am part of this tribe of freedom fighters, and city destroyers.”

“That does indeed seem to be a religion for you, Angron.”

“The celebration of the slave rebellion is in the spring. This holiday is minor, but it brings light to the darkness and reminds us to always destroy the oppressor. It is called Hanukkah, which means “rededication”. He inserted candles into the candelabra.

So that night, as soon as the sun went down, Lorgar and sixteen or so of the children watched as Angron put on an embroidered flat-topped skullcap and lit the middle candle, then the first one on the right. He whispered what had to be a prayer or a blessing, then turned around and said, “Now, we eat.”

Lorgar watched Angron carefully as they had a meal of potato pancakes (latkes, Angron called them), and green salad. Afterwards, they retreated to the largest playroom and Angron handed out four sided wooden tops and bags of candy coins. He explained the rules, and the children played for a few minutes, spinning the top and exchanging the coins according to how the top landed.

“I have never seen you happy like this,” Lorgar observed and Angron watched the children. “You have not smiled like this since you came to Imperia.”

“I am here at the Emperor’s request,” Angron said. “I tend to his children as Ankeara and Lotara command my flagship and my Legion. This-” he gestured around the room where the children were starting to fidget and become chocolate-smeared, “-is mine. I share my religion because I have chosen to do so.”

One of the children came running up to her primarch-brothers. “This is a boring game. Can we do something else now?”

“It is time, yes,” Angron said. “Everyone, back to the dining room!”

“Does your religion have a name?” Lorgar asked as they walked down the hallway behind the children. 

He stopped short before Angron could answer. While they had been in the playroom, servants had placed a jam bun on a plate and a glass of milk at every place. They had laid shiny blue and white streamers down the table, sprinkled with more candy coins in gold leaf and six-pointed cookie stars.

“My religion is called Judaism,” Angron told Lorgar. “I am a Jew. I will go into the ethics after the children are in bed, but for the moment…”

Angron walked up to the head of the table and lifted the glass of wine that had been poured for him. “The high-riders tried to kill us. They failed. They died, we did not. Let’s eat!”


End file.
